Let Angels Guide Thee On Thy Lofty Quest
by The Avid Musician
Summary: When the Vatican police came to Prof. Langdon, he knew that his cousin, Prof. Illyria Di Angeli could help just as much as him, but with the dangers that present themselves in Rome, what will happen to her?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: not mine._

**Angels and Demons**

**Chapter One  
**

Langdon swam from one side of the pool to the other repetitively. Laps.

As he turned his head to come up for air, he saw a man in a black suit walking along the side of the pool.

He ducked down under the water, flipped around, and pushed off the wall with his feet.

Langdon went up for air again. He looked. Black shoes and black suit pants walked alongside him. The rest of the body was too high for him to see. He put his head back down to finish the lap.

When he came up at the end of the lap, he paused, placing his arms on the edge to stay in place. He let himself catch his breath for a few seconds before he looked up at the man and said, "A swim might help your jetlag."

"I beg your pardon," the man answered. His accent was distinctly Italian.

"The bags under your eyes, it's five in the morning, and you're from the Vatican...Crossed keys under the triregnum, it's a papal symbol," Langdon said before plugging his nose and dipping his head back to get his hair wet.

"Claudio Vincenzi, _Corpo__ Della __Gendarmeria__Vaticano__,"_ the man said, showing his badge for Langdon to see.

"Vatican police? I was expecting another letter," Langdon said, surprised. At Vincenzi's look of confusion, he continued, "My request for access to your archives. Shouldn't you be in Rome? Kinda a busy time for you guys."

"In fact, I was in New York," Vincenzi corrected, "Detail to the UN. I received a phone call in the middle of the night: 'Find Professor Robert Langdon. A matter of great urgency.' They said to show you this," Vincenzi said, holding up a paper. On the paper was an ambigram of the word Illuminati.

Langdon stared at it, examining it for several long seconds. Finally, he looked up at the Italian man and said, "We need to see someone, first."

"Who?" Vincenzi asked.

"Professor Illyria Di Angeli. She works here. She specializes in Italian Renaissance History. She knows just about everything I know about Illuminati, but she knows Rome, and she knows Italian Renaissance like the back of her hand," Langdon explained.

"Why do we need her?" Vincenzi asked.

"Because she co-authored my book," Langdon said simply.

ooooooooooooooooooo

"The Illuminati? They disappeared hundreds of years ago," Vincenzi said confidently as they walked toward Illyria's house. It was just off campus. They were extremely close to it right now, but Vincenzi had so many questions that he would not be done asking them all when they arrived.

"Did they? Look at that again. It's an ambigram. It's the same image forward and backward. Now that's common for a symbol like the yin and yang, or a swastika, but that's a word. That Illuminati ambigramatic symbol has been considered a myth for 400 years. Supposedly in the 16th century some artist created it as a tribute to Galileo's love of symmetry. It was only going to be revealed when the Illuminati had amassed enough power to resurface and carry out their final goal. I wrote a book on it, with the help of my cousin, who we're going to see. Which is why you're here," Langdon said, suddenly recognizing that way in which they had found him.

"The Art of the Illuminati by Robert Langdon," Vincenzi quoted.

"Part one. I haven't been able to finish part two because I'm not allowed access to your archives. Plus, you can't have actually read my book, or you would have seen the multi-page note about my sources. She's at the top of the list," Langdon said, glaring at the Vatican policeman.

Langdon turned a corner with Vincenzi following closely. "Here it is," the Professor said as a small house came into view.

oooooooooooo

Illyria put her black trench coat on and tied the belt around her waist, covering her black pencil skirt and white collar shirt. All of the black stood out against her nearly white skin, but it was professional. She finished off the look by pulling her white hair up into a neat bun. She truly did not enjoy having to wear this type of thing for work every day, but she wished to look professional without having to wear suits, so here she was.

As she turned to find her purse, she heard her doorbell ring. Sighing, she grabbed her phone and answered the door.

In front of the door, her cousin Robert was standing, waiting for her. An Italian-looking man with brown hair and tan skin stood next to her cousin. "Illyria, look at this," Robert said eagerly, showing her a piece of paper. On that piece of paper, there was that same ambigram that they had been looking for.

"Robert, how-?" she began.

"I'll explain on the way. Come with me," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of her house. She managed to stop long enough to shut and lock her door before moving on.

By the time they arrived at Langdon's office, he had finished explaining what little he knew despite the interruptions from Vincenzi. Illyria perched on the desk whilst Robert went straight or his bookshelf. He pulled his book from the shelf and flipped through it to both of their attempts to recreate the Illuminati ambigram. He set the book open on the other side of the desk. He then held up the paper to it and said, "It's remarkable. Someone is trying to make you believe that the Illuminati have returned to Rome."

"Right after the death of a Pope, I might add. Perhaps whoever did this wants to claim that _they_ murdered the Pope," Illyria speculated with a shrug.

"Actually, four Cardinals were kidnapped from their quarters inside the Vatican sometime between three and five a.m. this morning. Shortly afterward, that document was sent to the Office of the Swiss Guard along with the threat: the Cardinals will be publicly executed one per hour beginning at eight p.m. tonight in Rome," Vincenzi said grimly. As he spoke, his neck muscles flexed. _This act must have affected him deeply._

A second later, Illyria understood the gravity of the events that were about to unfold. If this was allowed to happen, who knows what would happen concerning the world's Roman Catholic community.

"Conclave," Langdon said, remembering what happened after the death of a Pope.

"Was to begin today. We've postponed its start for a few hours, a story of illness. There are no suspicions," Vincenzi said informatively.

"There wouldn't be. Most people aren't _that_ suspicious," Illyria said from across the room.

"Yet," Vincenzi added.

"Or maybe they are, when you put it like that," Illyria said, looking down and tapping her foot to think. "But who would you be concerned about? The Cardinals? The people? Or perhaps the media?"

"What do you want from me?" Langdon asked, cutting into his cousin's speculations.

"These criminals who sent this ambigram meant it as a taunt, a provocation, but Captain Olivetti think if you can use it to learn their identity, perhaps we can stop this abomination," Vincenzi said, erring in grammar for the first time either Langdon or Illyria had heard.

"Why me?" Langdon asked, backing up to sit down. Illyria winced at that. _Don't you start that again, Robert!_

"Your expertise, both of yours," he said, looking between them both. "Your erudition...Your recent involvement with certain Church, shall we say...mysteries," he finished.

"Robert, is he talking about time when the French thought you were a murderer?" Illyria asked, looking up at him.

He nodded reluctantly at her before saying to Vincenzi, "I wasn't under the impression that episode had endeared me to the Vatican."

"Oh, it didn't," Vincenzi assured him.

"But it did make you- What's the word? – _formidabile_," Vincenzi said, struggling with English for a little bit.

Illyria snorted and asked, "How is Robert formidable?"

Vincenzi turned to look at her and said bluntly, "His knowledge, and apparently yours, too."

Illyria smiled at the Italian for a second and said, "Thank you for that."

"Anyway, a Vatican jet is standing by twenty minutes from here. Will you come with me? Both of you," he said.

Illyria visibly winced at the invitation's extension to herself. Langdon noticed. He walked over to her and laid a hand gently on her shoulder. "Would you be okay with so many priests around?" he whispered to her.

Illyria closed her eyes for a second. Then, she looked straight at him and nodded resolutely.

Langdon stood and walked over to his desk where the book and document still sat. "Robert, you and I both know we're going. Cut the act," Illyria said, standing to walk over to him.

Langdon looked up at her and smiled for a brief second.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Illyria laid her head back against the seat of the helicopter and stared out at Rome. It was such a breath-taking city, even though she had been there many times before. After all, she had studied abroad here before becoming a professor at her cousin's recommendation. So many happy memories in this city...And all of them ruined...

Vincenzi broke the silence amongst the three of them by saying, "If the Illuminati have returned and are in Rome, we will hunt them down and kill them."

"The Illuminati did not become violent until the 17th century. Their name means 'the enlightened ones'. They were physicists, mathematicians, astronomers. They were concerned that with the Church's inaccurate teaching, then they were dedicated to the scientific truth, but the Vatican didn't like that, so the Church began to- how did you say it? Oh, "hunt them down and kill them." Drove them underground into a secret society," Langdon said.

Illyria looked up and said to Vincenzi, "If the Illuminati truly are behind this, they are already willing to go this far for revenge. Think how much more violent they would become if you began to hunt and kill their members."

ooooooooooooooooooo

Finally, the helicopter touched down within the Vatican's walls. As the blades slowly decelerated, the three people alighted from the craft. While the two professors looked around at the ancient architecture, Vincenzi merely strode purposely forward, drawing the Americans' attention back to the present.

"Professor Langdon?" the man in the suit asked, approaching them quickly.

"Yes," Langdon answered.

"Welcome to Vatican City. Ernesto Olivetti, Inspector General of the Vatican Police Force- Who is she?" he said with an air of command about him.

"Professor Illyria Di Angeli of Harvard University," she said, holding a hand out.

"Why are you here?" he demanded suspiciously, disregarding her hand.

"Because I know more about Rome than he," she said bluntly, gesturing to Langdon. Thankfully, this argument was distracting her from her acute discomfort.

After a few seconds to collect his thoughts, Olivetti gestured toward the door and said, "This way. Headquarters of the Swiss Guard."

"I thought you were Swiss Guard," Langdon said ignorantly.

"No. They are responsible for everything inside the Vatican Wall whilst the Swiss Guard is devoted entirely to the protection of the Pope. Do you have the Roman Polezia as advisors?" she said, directly the last to the Inspector General.

"Yes," Olivetti said, astonished by her knowledge.

They continued to walk, passing two Swiss Guards to enter a gallery.

"Ah, yes. Pope Pius IX's great castration," Langdon said, recognizing the statues.

"I beg your pardon?" Olivetti asked.

"1857. Pope Pius IX felt the male form would inspire lust," Illyria explained, attempting to hold back her amusement at such a concept amongst such 'pious and holy' people.

"So he took a hammer and chisel and unmanned hundreds of these statues," Langdon continued.

"The plaster fig leaves were added later," Illyria added in passing, pointing to one of the statues.

"Are you two anti-catholic?" Olivetti asked.

Langdon and Illyria looked at each other for a second and responded in unison. "No, anti-vandalism." Olivetti studied them for a second. After all, who wouldn't be alarmed by two apparently unrelated people speaking in unison?

They entered the Swiss Guard armoury and Olivetti said to the two Professors, "I urge you to guard your tongue here. The Swiss Guard is a calling, not a profession, and it requires a certain..."

"Zealotry? Fanaticism? Chauvinism?" Illyria supplied, listing off a few possibilities.

"Yes. Exactly. How did you know?" he asked. Obviously, he had not expected either of them to understand the way of life within the Vatican.

"A friend of mine described the Swiss Guard that way," she explained quickly, almost too quickly to be believable.

Olivetti nodded, though he was obvious still perplexed. "Commander Richter, the head of the guard, is a deeply spiritual man. He was close to the late Pope. Understand?"

"Look, I don't study symbols because I consider them unimportant ceremonial traditions. I just hope we can help," Langdon said.

"So do I," Olivetti said with a smile.

"You were my idea, and I wish you, Professor Di Angeli, were as well," Olivetti continued, turning to usher them into the Swiss Guard Headquarters. They were instructed to wait at a bench beside the door. They sat near another woman who was waiting.

Soon, she was called to the Commander. "Dr. Vetra."

"Commander Richter of the Swiss Guard," he introduced himself.

"Hello," she said, shaking his hand.

Illyria and Langdon rose. "Professor Langdon, and...?"

"Professor Illyria Di Angeli of Harvard," she said, offering her hand. The Commander shook hers and Langdon's, though he looked quite sceptical of the worth of having them there.

"What a relief. The symbologists are here," he said mockingly. "This way, please, Miss Vetra."

"The situation has changed," Olivetti said quietly to them. "We received another threat from the kidnapper."

"The canister was taken from my lab around noon yesterday," the scientist was saying as they came over. "They intruder killed my research partner Silvano Bentivolio, and mutilated him in order to bypass security... We use retinal scanners. They cut out his eye."

"Is that your stolen canister, Miss Vetra?"

"Where is that camera, #86?"

"It's wireless. It too was stolen. It could be anywhere inside the Vatican walls."

"That canister contains an extremely combustible material called anti-matter. We need to locate it immediately, or evacuate Vatican City," Vetra continued.

"I am quite familiar with incendiaries, Miss Vetra. I've never heard of anti-matter used as such."

"It's never been generated in significant quantities before. It's a way of studying the origins of the universe to try to isolate what some people call the 'God particle'. There are implications for energy research."

"God particle?" the Commander interrupted.

"What you call it isn't important. It's what gives all matter mass, the thing without which we could not exist," Vetra continued.

"You're talking about _the_ moment of creation," Langdon intervened in awe.

"Yes. The anti-matter is suspended there in an air-tight container with electromagnets at each end, but if it were to fall out of suspension and come in contact with matter, say the bottom of the canister, the two opposing forces would annihilate one another violently."

"What might cause it to fall out of suspension?"

"When the battery goes dead just before midnight," she said, offering an instance, the most pressing of many possibilities.

"Annihilation? How violent?" the Commander asked.

"It would be a cataclysmic event, a blinding explosion equivalent to about five kilotons."

"Vatican City will be consumer by light," Langdon quoted.

"Those are the exact words the kidnapper used," the Commander said, suspicions forming.

"It's a part of the ancient Illuminati threat against the Vatican," Illyria said, defending her cousin's innocence in the matter whilst surprised they hadn't noticed the origin of the words immediately.

The Commander walked over to a tape player and began to play a tape. It showed a man in somewhat dim lighting.

"We will destroy your pillars. We will brand your _preferiti_ and sacrifice them on the Altars of Science. Then bring your church down upon you. Vatican City will be consumed by light, a shining star at the end of the path of illumination," the kidnapper said on the video.

"The destruction of Vatican City through light, the threat word for word," Langdon said.

"The four pillars are the kidnapped Cardinals," Illyria said. That much at least was obvious.

"You didn't tell us they were the _preferiti_, the favourites to be named the next Pope," Langdon continued.

"Play it again," Illyria instructed, tapping her finger in thought.

The tape began to play again, but Langdon had them stop right after the kidnapper said, "Brand your _preferiti_."

"Brand them?" Langdon said pensively. "That's another Illuminati legend." He went on to explain the legend. Illyria didn't bother to add anything. This was, after all, his area of expertise.

"He said they'd be killed publicly," the Commander said speculatively.

"Revenge, for the _Perga_," Illyria put in.

"For the _Perga_?" the Commander asked.

"Geeze, you guys don't even read your own history, do you?" Langdon asked. He continued to explain that legend, as well. Once again, it was pointless for Illyria to add anything.

However, she felt there was a need for a summary at the end. Olivetti looked rather confused. "_Perga_ invented newer and darker Illuminati, one bent on retribution," Illyria said.

"And look how they intend to finally get it: using anti-matter, technology to destroy the church," Langdon said.

"Science obliterates religion," Illyria said softly. It was impossible to distinguish what feeling accompanied it.

"Is there anymore?" Langdon asked.

The video began to play again.

"Path of Illumination," Langdon whispered speculatively in the midst of it.

"_L'Altare della scienza?"_ Illyria asked, looking to her cousin for confirmation.

Her cousin nodded and said, "We need access to the Vatican Archives."

The Commander scoffed and sat down. Olivetti began to say, "Professor, I don't this is the time for-"

"Your petition has been denied seven times," the Commander said bluntly.

"You don't think...This has nothing to do with my work!" he insisted.

"The path of Illumination is a hidden trail through Rome itself to find the church of Illumination, the place where the Illuminati would meet in secret," Illyria began. She stopped and allowed Robert to finish. She could tell he was itching to explain this.

"If we can find the _segno_, the sign, that marks the beginning of that path, then four churches may be where he intends the murder your Cardinals," Robert finished.

"One every hour at 8, 9, 10, and 11, then the device explodes at midnight," Illyria finished.

"If we can figure out the first church and get there before he does, then maybe we can stop it, but we can't find the start of the path until we get into the archives," Langdon insisted.

"You forget that access to the archives is only by the Curator and the Board of the Vatican Librarians," the Commander said.

"Or by papal mandate," Illyria said suddenly.

"Yes, and as you no doubt have heard, the Holy Father is dead," the Commander said callously.

"_Il Camerlengo_," Langdon and Illyria said in unison.

"The Camerlengo is just a priest here, a former Pope's chamberlain," the Commander said.

"The power of the Holy Seat rests in him during _Tempe Sete Vicante,"_ Illyria said. They all looked down as though they thought she would not know that. _What did they expect from experts?_

"Fellas, you called us," Langdon said bluntly. Illyria looked over at him with an expression clearly saying, 'Did you _have_ to phrase it like that?'


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Robert and Illyria were led through the maze of hallways and stairs of the Vatican after the lengthy process of getting approval to see the Camerlengo. It was not long before they stopped at a door and were let in.

As soon as Illyria laid eyes on the Camerlengo, she stopped dead in her tracks. "Patrick?" she whispered in disbelief and confusion.

Robert turned back at her whisper. Quickly, he took her hand and led her into the room. Mindlessly, she followed. When he stopped, he whispered to her, "Illyria, are you all right?"

Illyria's eyes flicked to his. She whispered back, only just recovering from the shock, "That's him."

Robert frowned in confusion. "Who?"

Neither of them noticed Dr. Vetra glance over at them before turning back to the Camerlengo and Richter.

"Patrick..." she whispered.

Robert's eyes widened. He stepped toward her so he was between her and the other men and grasped her hand firmly in his own. He was just in time. The Camerlengo had finished speaking to the others.

"His Holiness once told me a Pope was a man torn between the real world and the Divine. It seems the real world is upon us tonight. I'm familiar with Illuminati lore and the legend of the brandings. The _Perga_ is a dark stain on this church's history. I 'm not surprised this ghost has returned to haunt us. _Commandante_, have you begun the search for this explosive device?" Camerlengo Father Patrick McKenna said, all in a soft, light Scottish accent.

"Of course, but it could be anywhere. My priority concern at this moment is the safety of the Cardinals," Richter answered.

"The Sistine Chapel is a fortress. As long as the Cardinals are in Conclave, your security concerns are at a minimum," the Camerlengo pointed out. "Devote as many of your-," he began.

"_Signore_, if you're about to suggest that I search the entire city, I will tell you I do not have," the Commander interrupted.

"Commander," the Camerlengo said sternly.

"The people," he finished.

"Though I am not his Holiness, when you are addressing me, you are addressing this office, do you understand?" Illyria could not help but raise her eyebrows in admiration of his clever use of the power he held. He certainly had changed.

"Yes, Father," he said reluctantly.

"Good. Now, you said the image on the screen was illuminated by artificial light. Might I suggest cutting power to various parts of the city? When the light on the camera goes dark, you'll have a more specific idea of the camera's location," the Camerlengo suggested.

"Dr. Vetra. Besides yourself and your research partner, who else knew about this anti-matter project?"

"No one, but the research team. This project was strictly confidential, but Silvano kept detailed journals. If he told anyone, he would have made a note of it."

"And do you have these journals?" the Camerlengo asked.

"I can have them flown here from Geneva in an hour," Vetra said confidently.

"Please," he said simply. He then turned to the Professors and said, "Professor Langdon-...Illyria?"

She nodded reluctantly, still staring at him.

"How..."

She shook her head and mouthed, 'Not here.'

"Please...uh, come with me," the Camerlengo said, swiftly turning and leading them through a corridor to the Papal Office. He walked inside before turning to face them, or more specifically Illyria.

"...I thought you were at Harvard," he said, stepping closer to her.

"I thought you were at the Acropolis," she returned.

"My father came here. I followed him," he said simply, shrugging.

"Your Inspector General Olivetti recruited Robert for your problem. I was pulled into it," she returned, explanation for explanation.

Patrick smiled hesitantly and said, "I am glad."

Illyria sighed before saying, "We can talk more after this whole fiasco is resolved."

He nodded solemnly before turning to Robert. "You are correct that I may grant you access to the Archives," he said.

"That you, _padre_," Langdon said. Illyria looked over at him and shook her head slightly. _'May' is different from 'will'._ Finally, she was past the shock and able function.

"I said that you are correct that I may, not that I will," the Camerlengo corrected, echoing her thoughts. "Christianity's most sacred codices are in that archive. Given your recent entanglement with the church there is a question I would like to ask you first here in the Office of His Holiness."

The Camerlengo approached him and asked, "Do you believe in God?"

"Father, I simply believe that religion..." Langdon began.

"I did not ask if you believe what man says about God. I asked if you believe in God," the Camerlengo said.

"I'm an academic. My mind tells me I will never understand god."

"And your heart?" the priest prompted.

"Tells me I'm not meant to," Langdon finished. "Faith is a gift I have yet to receive."

Patrick turned to place his hand gently on her shoulder. "I already know your answer."

She nodded, placing her hand gently over his. Patrick turned just his head to say to Robert, "Be careful with our treasures."

"Thank you," Robert said, nodding to him respectfully before turning to walk out.

Turning back to her, Patrick began to said, "How-"

"Later, Patrick. Lives are at stake," Illyria said regretfully.

Patrick nodded in understanding, though he was obviously sad.

Without another word, Illyria walked out, quickly catching up with her cousin.

ooooooooooooooooooo

"The archives are this way," Olivetti said, pointing toward another part of the city.

"Professor Langdon! Professor Di Angeli! If this path really leads to the Church of Illumination that may be where they've hidden the anti-matter," Vetra said, coming up from behind them and out of breath from running.

"The shining star at the end of the path," Robert said with a nod.

"I thought so, too," Illyria said, looking between them.

"Follow the path and we may find the canister at the end of it," she said, smiling.

"Can you deactivate the device?" Olivetti asked.

"I can change the canister's battery as long as we have more than five minutes of life. That means we have another 24 hours to get it safely back to CERN," she informed them.

The three others looked among each other and nodded. With that, Olivetti led the way again.

"Robert Langdon," he said, shaking her hand.

"Vitoria Vetra," she responded.

Illyria was silently absorbed in her own thoughts.

"This is Illyria Di Angeli," Robert said, gesturing toward her.

"Are you really symbologists or was he mocking you?"

"Both for me," Langdon said.

"I'm actually an historian specializing in the Italian Renaissance," Illyria finished, surprising them both by speaking.

"You're a physicist," Langdon continued after a second.

"Bio-entanglement physics. Interconnectivity of life-systems," Vitoria said.

"Oh," Langdon finished. Both professors had blank stares on their faces before she had explained.

"Your project was geared toward energy research, correct?" Illyria asked.

"Eventually, yes. One speck of anti-matter could power an entire city for a month."

"Or destroy one tonight," Illyria added morbidly. Hearing her tone, Robert gave her a long look.

"What are we looking for in the Archives?" Vitoria asked, hoping to be of some use.

"A map," Langdon said bluntly.

"A bound volume written by Galileo," Illyria said. Her cousin never had been the best at describing things.

"Galileo was Illuminati?" Vitoria asked.

"Yeah, and he happened to be Catholic," Robert continued.

"He didn't think the Church and science were _enemies_, just two sides of the same story," Illyria continued.

"And he wanted like minds to find the Church of Illumination," Langdon said.

"But he couldn't exactly advertise its location," Illyria put in.

"So he created a coded path," Langdon explained.

Just then, the lights in front of them went out.

Olivetti turned to look at them.

"What just happened?" Illyria asked.

"Richter has cut the power in various places. It'll be back on in a minute," the Italian answered. It took him a few seconds to look away from her. She looked like a ghost in the dim lighting, but what little light there was shone from her skin as though it was luminescent.

"Okay," Illyria said, shrugging.

"Well, some unknown Illuminati master sculpted four statues," Langdon said, continuing his informative monologue.

"Each one attributed to one of the fundamental elementals..." Illyria interjected. Her cousin always forgot about that.

"Earth, air, fire, and water," Langdon listed.

"He placed the statues out in public in churches throughout Rome," Illyria continued with the explanation.

"Each statue held a clue pointing to the next," Langdon explained.

"At the end of the path was the Church of Illumination," Illyria finished.

"If you could find that, you were one of them," Langdon explained.

"What makes you think he's going to murder the cardinals in the Churches?" Olivetti asked.

"The Illuminati called those four Churches by the special name_ L'Altare della scienza,_" Illyria began.

"'Sacrifice them on the Altars of Science,' he said," Vitoria put in, realizing the thought train.

"Exactly, " Langdon said.

"Oh, wow. Look at this," Langdon sad, seeing the Elevator down to the Vatican Archives.

"Are you siblings?" Vitoria asked.

"Cousins," they replied in unison.

"You two should teach class jointly," Olivetti said, allowing them to step into the fancy elevator.

"We already do," Illyria said, smiling as she looked back at him from within the elevator. Olivetti stared at her for a couple seconds before the elevator door closed, hiding her from sight.

_WHY did I have to stare at her? And why couldn't I look away?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Hello. This way please," the Guard at the entrance to the Vatican Archives said, showing them to the glass and steel entrance to one of the many chambers.

"Oh, beautiful," Langdon said in awe.

"The chambers are vaults. Oxygen is kept at lowest possible levels. It's a partial vacuum inside. Extended stays are not recommended," the Guard informed them.

"So don't panic if you feel lightheaded at first," Langdon said, attempting humour.

They went to the vault marked _Il Processo Galilieano_.

"I'll be just outside the door, watching you, Mr. Langdon," he said ominously as he ushered them into the chamber.

"What about her?" he asked indignantly.

"Il Camerlengo said she could be trusted," he said, shrugging.

Robert looked over at Illyria and said, "It seems your...what did you call him?...acquaintance has paid off."

Illyria disregarded his comment and began to search for the document. A second later, Robert followed, saying at the same time, "It was confiscated from the Netherlands by the Vatican just after Galileo died."

"I've been petitioning to see it for about ten years," he said, still searching.

"It's here, Robert," Illyria said, pulling the correct codex from the shelf and placing it carefully on the table.

"What makes you so sure that the _segno_'s there?" Vitoria asked.

"Number 503," Langdon said.

"That used to drive you crazy," Illyria said, amused.

"I used to see it over and over again in Illuminati letters, scribbled in the margin, and sometimes just signed 503. It's a numeric clue. But to what? Five?"

"Robert! Time is of the essence!" Illyria reminded him as he pulled out the codex from the casing and placed it on the table.

"Just a few days with this and I could actually have finished my book," Langdon said, gazing at the text.

"And sold dozens of copies at the Harvard Book Store," Illyria added comically.

"_Diagrama Veritatis_," Langdon said.

"Diagram of Truth," Vitoria translated.

"Yes, this is what he wrote, not what the Vatican forced him to write. It was printed in Holland on sedge papyrus so that anyone caught with it would throw it in water and all evidence would be destroyed. Now, let's look at page five," Illyria said, speeding along the explanation.

Langdon stared at the page for a second before Vitoria asked, "Do you need help with Latin?"

"Sure," he answered.

She looked over the page, not finding anything, but she turned the page. Illyria saw a glint then and said, "There's a watermark!"

"And a line of text," Langdon said, peering through a magnifying glass. "It's in English!"

"English?" Vitoria asked, surprised.

"Because it was not used in the Vatican. It was the language of radicals like Chaucer and Shakespeare. Let me tell you, the Church did _not_ like them," Illyria continued.

"'The path of light is laid the sacred'- could you write this down as I dictate?" Langdon said.

"Sorry, Professors. No time," Vitoria said, ripping the page from the book and standing up.

The two professors stared, aghast until Langdon said, "Yeah. Yeah. What the hell. Yeah." He pulled Illyria up and out the door before she got over her shock.

oooooooooooo

They hurried back to Olivetti, who still waited at the top of the elevator. As soon as she saw him, Illyria said, "We need a car."

Olivetti took off at a jog, closely followed by the other three. Soon, they reached the car.

As they all got into the car, Olivetti said, "20 minutes until eight. Where are we headed?"

"Hold on. Hold on. I'll tell you in a minute. Let me see that page again," Langdon said.

"Already reading. It says, 'From Santi's earthly tomb with demon's hole must roam the mystic elements unfold. The path of light is laid the sacred test. Let angels guide thee on thy lofty quest,'" Illyria said.

"What? Where did you get that?" Olivetti demanded.

"We borrowed it," Vitoria said simply.

"You removed a document from the Vatican Archives?" Olivetti exclaimed.

"She did," Langdon said, vaguely pointing.

Olivetti glanced over at Illyria, who held up her arms and said vehemently, "Not me! It's not my fault!"

"From Santi's Earthly tomb," the first marker is at Santi's tomb," Vitoria said.

"Yeah," Langdon said.

"But who's Santi?" she continued to ask.

"Raphael, the sculptor. He is buried at the Pantheon, but his tomb was moved to there...Maybe it means an angel sculpture... _Capella della Terra_!" Illyria said, thinking out loud.

"Ten minutes," Olivetti said as he turned a corner, heading off to the chapel.

"Why there?" Robert asked.

"There are only a few Raphael angel sculptures in the city. _Capella della Terra_ has a mosaic on the floor that has to do with a demon. It's nicknamed the 'Demon's Hole'. That's why I thought of it," Illyria explained.

"Thank Goodness you're brilliant!" Robert said seriously as they pulled up in front of the building.

Just as the group got out of the car, the bells tolled 8 o'clock.

Suddenly, one of the Swiss Guards with them said something. They all rushed forward to find an entrance. Olivetti and the others rushed past the actual entrance, because they couldn't open it. Langdon rushed to the door, took one look at it, and yelled to them, "Wait!" They kept running.

"An annulus!" Illyria exclaimed.

Langdon quickly opened the door and the three of them went inside. The church was closed for renovations, so scaffolding was set up all around.

"Which one is the Cigi Chapel?" Vitoria asked.

They looked around until Langdon saw someone walk away. He hurried over with the two women following closely. They looked around and found an angel statue, though half was all muscle and no skin. As they reached that statue, the Swiss guardsmen that had gone around for another entrance hurried into the church. Each had a gun in hand, locked and loaded.

"Pyramids in a catholic church," Langdon commented.

"This is the Cigi Chapel. I recognize the sculpture," Illyria said confidently. Her eyes had not left the angel.

They continued to look until Illyria noticed the mosaic on the floor. She said while squatting near it, "The centre tile of the mosaic is askew, Robert! Whoever it is has already been and gone."

Langdon hurried over, as well as Olivetti, who had entered with the Swiss guardsmen. They as well as another man hefted the stone away, revealing a perfectly round hole leading to a pit cloaked in darkness.

"What's that?" Olivetti asked. Langdon just looked at him for a second.

Olivetti moved to go in first, gun and flashlight ready. Langdon followed, then Illyria. It smelled dreadful.

They searched with flashlights for a second before Olivetti found something. He walked over to get a better look, frowning in curiosity. Langdon walked over to look as well. His eyes widened when he saw it. It was horrific.

Quickly, Langdon turned to try to prevent Illyria from seeing it, but it was too late. She beheld the dirty, hand-cuffed corpse of the Cardinal with a brand saying "Earth" ambigramically on his chest. Rats were eating part of his face. She stared in horror until her cousin turned her away and pulled her over to the ladder. He quickly picked her up and carried her out of the whole before setting her down, facing away from the hole. A second later, she crouched over and emptied her stomach to the floor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Langdon and Vitoria spoke, still in the chapel. Olivetti stood beside Illyria. She sat against the wall with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her waist.

When he was done giving orders, Olivetti squatted beside her and asked, "Are you all right?"

Illyria took a deep breath before nodding. Gently, Olivetti helped her up and led her back over to Langdon and Vitoria, secretly enjoying the warmth of her body beside his.

She arrived just in time to hear Langdon say, "This is the first marker."

"Every marker is a sculpture of an angel by Bernini," Illyria said. "Follow the direction the angel points."

"Southwest," Langdon said, hurrying outside.

"The next marker is a Bernini sculpture having something to do with air. It's southwest," Langdon said to Richter.

"You're sure?" he asked sceptically.

"I need a map. I could use it now," Langdon said, hurrying up the scaffolding on the church to look southwest. He saw St. Peter's.

Langdon explained the map before saying, "St. Peter's!"

"Michelangelo designed St. Peter's," Richter said from the front seat.

"Bernini designed the square," Illyria said immediately.

"The second marker must be a statue in St. Peter's square," Langdon said.

"The statures are all saints. The obelisk has a dove at the top. There are some bas-reliefs on the floor of the square. It's probably one of them," Illyria said.

"It's ten minutes to nine. Can you go any faster?" Vitoria asked.

"Not unless you want the full attention of the world press," Richter said.

The cars pulled up and they hurried into the square, checking reliefs.

"West wind..." Langdon said speculatively as he looked at one of the reliefs.

"Vitoria! Illyria! This is it!" he called.

"West wind. An angel blowing out five streaks of air..." Illyria said speculatively.

And the clock tolled 9 o'clock.

The three of them as well as the Swiss guardsmen looked all the more urgently for the Cardinal. As they did, a part of the crowd near them broke out into a fight. Seconds later, the sound of a little girl screaming broke up the fight. The crowd squished together around the base of the obelisk, but no one dared to approach it.

At this new disturbance, the Swiss guardsmen ran forward, as did Robert, Illyria, and Vitoria. They saw, on the very steps of the obelisk, another Cardinal, bleeding and limp.

Vitoria put her fingers at his neck, feeling for a pulse. "He's still alive!" she said.

They turned him over and saw the 'air' brand on his chest. Vitoria started to perform CPR, but that blew blood into Langdon's face from one of the wounds.

"His lungs are punctured," Vitoria said.

"The other two will be burned and drowned," Illyria said.

Unknown to them, the kidnapper and now murderer watched them from the crowd. He most particularly watched Illyria. She seemed more insightful than the other two. In fact, it was apparent that she was the one leading them, though he could only guess why. They couldn't find the markers in time without her.

The ambulance arrived with paramedics surprisingly quickly. Apparently, there were ambulances and security personnel on stand-by for the crowd. The security force, the Swiss Guard specifically, was clearing the square.

The three hurried back to the Vatican to clean the blood before continuing while Richter picked up a note from the Cardinal's body. Vitoria and Illyria just had to wash their hands, while Langdon switched into priestly garb. However, he pulled the white collar out of the neckline.

oooooooooooo

"'From within your walls to squeeze the life from the bishop of Rome.' Why he's actually claiming responsibility for the death of his Holiness! That's ridiculous. He died of a stroke," the Camerlengo said, entering his office.

"It implies the Illuminati murdered him with his own medication," Olivetti said.

"What?" the Camerlengo asked.

"Down here: 'With man's solution we stilled his heart. With his own needle did we pierce his unholy veil.'" Olivetti continued.

"Did the Holy Father take any kind of medication by injection?" Olivetti asked.

"Tensaparin," the Camerlengo said. "He had thrombophlebitis. He took an injection every day, but no one knew that."

"Someone knew," Olivetti said.

"Well, he had health concerns and seizures as well, but he took steps to make sure he was watched, for safety. He didn't want it made public, so we have no reason to discuss it," Richter said.

"Tensaparin is lethal at the wrong dosage," Vitoria said, "An overdose would cause massive internal bleeding and brain haemorrhages."

"It might look like a stroke at first, but in a few days his body would show signs. This could easily be examined," Illyria said before realizing what she had said. "I'm sorry," she began to say.

"Miss Di Angeli, Miss Vetra, in case you were unaware: Papal Autopsy is prohibited by Vatican Law," Richter said. "We're not going to defile his Holiness's body just because his enemies claim that."

"But why would he claim that in this letter now?" Olivetti asked.

"To cause panic. 'The sun will blind at midnight, the place nor professors can stamp out,'" McKenna said.

"He knows we're here," Illyria said briefly, horror-stricken.

"Obviously, they were hoping this letter would become public. We might be wise to pre-empt their next attempt by making an announcement of our own to refute this absurd claim," McKenna continued.

"That is out of the question. Cardinal Strauss has requested this matter be kept Confidential," one of the bishops said.

"He couldn't even be aware of it. He's locked in Conclave," McKenna said.

"His final instructions were quite clear."

"Cardinal Strauss does not dictate Vatican Protocols," McKenna returned hotly.

"As you say, technically, now that Conclave has begun, it is his privilege to control news announcements."

"I've drafted a release about the incident at the _piazza_ and any other statements are strictly prohibited. For that, Cardinal has asked me to remind you we have a chimney," the priest said.

"Commander Richter, the search for the device," McKenna inquired.

"Oh, we've turned the power on and off to about 20% of Vatican City. Nothing on the video yet," Richter said.

"We're out of options. How long would you need to evacuate everyone?" he asked.

"If pulled all my men from the search for the bomb, 30 minutes," Richter said before leaving.

"Mr. Langdon, Miss Di Angeli, you have been right so far about the path. It is now 9:15. How quickly can you find the next church?"

"The lines of breath on the carvings pointed due east," Langdon said, pointing to the map. "That'd directly away from Vatican City."

"But there were five of them, so there's room for error," Illyria reminded him.

"About twenty churches intersect those lines," Langdon continued.

"None of them have names that involve fire," Illyria said. She hadn't even looked at the map. That was how well she knew Rome.

"So, a Bernini sculpture must be inside one of them that does," Langdon said.

"It has to be a figurative meaning. None of the sculptures literally have 'fire' in them. We'll need to get back into the archives to find it," Illyria finished.

"Would you escort Mr. Langdon and Miss Vetra?" McKenna asked Olivetti.

"Yes, Father," he answered, walking to the door.

"What about Illyria?" Langdon asked.

"I must speak with her," he said.

Illyria's head snapped to look at the Camerlengo.

He gave her a long look before turning back to the two retreating men for a second. "Professor Langdon." As her cousin turned back to look at him, he asked, "Would it surprise it to find that those clothes suit you?"

Robert looked over to Illyria with sadness in his eyes. "It would surprise the hell out of me," he said, looking back to the priest before leaving, leaving the two alone.

The Camerlengo and Illyria stayed behind, studying each other. He stepped closer to her and stared directly into her eyes.

"I've missed you, Illyria," Patrick said softly.

Illyria smiled sadly and said, "And I you."

"Your professorship turned out well," he commented. He still had not moved.

"As has your priesthood," she said. Her smile faded.

Patrick nodded sadly. He was hardly able to speak for the lump in his throat. "We both had wonderful opportunities."

"Look where we are now," Illyria said sardonically.

"Was it worth it?" Patrick asked carefully.

"I'd like to think so," Illyria said softly.

He sighed and returned, "I'm not so sure."

Silence fell.

Both of them looked down sadly, lost in their memories.

The seconds ticked by before quite suddenly Patrick surged forward and hugged Illyria tightly.

Only then did she let the tears fall.

"I'm sorry, Illyria. So sorry. I should have been there," he whispered over and over into her hair.

When she finally stopped crying, he slowly let her go, allowing her time to gather herself. She looked up to him carefully. Her red eyes glistened with the last of her tears; her skin seemed paler than he had ever seen it, except...

Even now, Illyria seemed ill at ease. In an attempt to calm her, he lightly placed his hands on her shoulders. At this contact, her eyes widened, her breath quickened, and she began to tremble violently. In mere seconds, she began to hyperventilate.

Naturally, Patrick was very concerned. Rather than backing away, he wrapped his arms around her again. She broke out into a cold sweat. "Let me go," she whispered almost feverishly.

It took only an instant for him to understand. He quickly backed away, allowing her the space she needed.

When Illyria had calmed down, he said simply, "I'm sorry."

She shook her head and said rather desolately, "It isn't your fault I was..." The word was caught in her throat for a few seconds before she whispered it out, "Raped."

"But I could have been there! I could have saved you! If I hadn't gone to the wrong plaza-"

"What's done is done, Patrick," Illyria said seriously.

She did not know how this had tormented him. He had spent many a sleepless night praying over and over for forgiveness because she had suffered so greatly for his mistake.

"Will you tell me what happened in America?"

"Do you mean-" she began.

"What made you lose faith?" he clarified quickly.

"I don't like being told what to think," she said bluntly.

"Then why do you seem to be afraid of priests?" Patrick asked perceptively.

Illyria laughed lightly and asked, "Do you think I am afraid of you?"

"No, but you have always been afraid of the others. Why?"

Illyria sighed and said quietly, "There was something I never told you about in my childhood..."

After a few seconds of her standing silently with her head lowered, it was clear she was loth to continue. Carefully, Patrick stepped toward her and tilted her head up with his fingers. Her eyes were filled with pain, anguish, and sadness. However, he could also see that even after these years apart she still trusted him implicitly. It was also apparent in her eyes that she was still rational. It was simply a matter of controlling her emotions enough to tell the entire tale.

Gently, Patrick prodded, "Please tell me."

Illyria nodded and looked down once more to compose herself. She did not look up at him as she explained. "You will remember that my mother died giving birth to me, and my father died when I was eight years old. At his funeral, the priest in attendance called me Demon Spawn and beat me half to death. He left me in the archives of the morgue. Robert found me two hours later. I had a concussion, three broken ribs, a broken wrist, various bruises, a cut exposing my cheek bone, and a cut exposing half of my ribs. I lost two pints of blood before he found me."

The priest knelt in front of her and took her hands in one of his. He placed his other hand under her chin and lightly pulled her chin up, making her meet his gaze. He studied her eyes, her luminescent, deep crimson, shining, anguished eyes. His hand moved nearly unbidden to rest gently on her cheek.

Patrick leaned forward unconsciously. When he had come half the distance, his other hand came up and slid into her hair. He slowly pulled her head down to his and brushed his lips against hers almost like a feather.

Something in his eyes changed. He seemed to gain a new confidence, so he guided her closer to him again for a longer kiss filled with emotion. When he broke away again, he rested his forehead lightly against hers and said nothing.

Finally, Illyria broke the silence by whispering, "But...you're a priest..."

"I don't care," he said, twining his fingers in her hair. "I-I-I..." He looked gently into her eyes and said, "I still love you."

She gasped again in surprise before pushing herself up from the chair and walking over to the window, muttering to herself the whole time. She stared out at the square silently, not making any move to look back or even speak to him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

After more than five minutes, he spoke again, asking, "If the Holy Father were murdered, what signs would his body bear?"

"After a week, the inside of his mouth would be black from congealed blood that his tongue bled out," she said concisely.

"Come with me," he said urgently, though not ungently.

"Where are we going?" Illyria asked, hurrying after him.

"To see my father," Patrick said somewhat bluntly.

"What?" Illyria asked, clearly not understanding.

"My father died," he clarified.

"When?" Illyria asked sympathetically.

"Fourteen days ago."

Illyria's eyes widened and she turned her head to look at him in shock. "Your f-...oh," she said under her breath.

oooooooooooo

"If the Holy Father was murdered, the implications are profound," Patrick said as he guided the woman he loved by flashlight through the Vatican grottoes. Several Swiss Guardsmen were also present wielding flashlights of their own.

"Vatican security is impenetrable. No one from the outside could have gone anywhere near him," Patrick said, holding her hand tightly.

"It was on the inside," Illyria realized.

"We can trust no one," McKenna said, briefly tightening his grip on her hand for both his and her reassurance.

They soon reached the tomb. The Camerlengo knelt before the tomb and prayed. The men then pushed the cover from the sarcophagus. Patrick took the silk cover from atop the corpse's head. It revealed the black interior on the Holy Father's grotesque gaping mouth.

"God help us," Patrick whispered in horror.

_This can't mean anything good_, Illyria thought. Her eyes were locked on the corpse. How could someone do this to anyone, let alone such a kind, old man?

_Robert...He's probably going on tangents without any guidance..._

"I need to get back..." Illyria whispered, only now remembering her cousin and his problems with staying on task without her.

She did not wait for any form of approval or acknowledgement of departure. "Good luck," she called as she dashed away, back to the surface and her cousin.

"May God watch over you," he whispered in return, knowing what he must do next. However, he was far more reluctant now that he had a true purpose to live for again. He could not be the same fearless priest. He had to make sure Illyria was safe and happy.

ooooooooooooooooooo

"Santa Maria Della Vitoria," Langdon said, getting into the car that Olivetti had just driven up.

"Robert! Wait!" Illyria called, sprinting out of the doors toward the car.

"Stop!" Langdon said sharply to Olivetti, noticing his cousin.

The Inspector General looked back to see a beautiful angel with red eyes sprinting toward them. He nearly cowered in fear, thinking her to be the Angel of Death, before he realized it was Illyria. He kept his foot on the brake pedal, waiting for this radiant being to sit in the car. When the pale woman was safely in the car, Olivetti drove off at a break-neck pace.

They swerved around corners, pedestrians, and other cars in their frantic drive to the next church. The headlights and city lights illuminated their journey, though they left the passengers rather car sick.

"I think someone just tried to kill me," Langdon said seriously.

"What?" Illyria exclaimed. "What happened?" Suspicions whirled through her head, thank to the disturbing information she had just learned. However, she refused to share this until she was sure no one who could be involved could hear them. She even suspected the kind man driving the car.

"Someone turned off the power in the archives while I was in there!" Robert exclaimed.

"Suffocation?" she asked, horrified. He nodded.

"Professors, I promise you we had no idea," Olivetti began. In his heart, Olivetti knew this assurance was more to Illyria than to Langdon. Of course, he would and could only call her by name in his mind.

"He knows we're here," he continued, beginning to explain his view of events. "You heard me ask permission. You escorted me."

"Yes, but we had no idea that portions of that zone were cross-wired with that building. Commander Richter was extending the search. If he had known the Archives were on that grid, he would never have killed the power!" Olivetti said seriously. In his mind, there was no way that Richter or any other member of the Swiss Guard would do that.

"Or there is the other possibility," Langdon said with much more deadly seriousness. "Is it conceivable the Illuminati have infiltrated the Swiss Guard?"

Olivetti looked at him, then back to the road. His mind was clearly churning the idea, searching for some way to disprove it, but finding none. "Perhaps..." he said reluctantly.

Illyria sank back into her seat, concerned for what the depths of this conspiracy may mean.

oooooooooooooo

As soon as the car pulled up in front of the Santa Maria della Vitoria, Langdon bolted out of the car. Illyria was only a step behind him. Olivetti held up the end, sprinting up the steps to the church.

Olivetti hurried into the lead when they walked into the sanctuary. "_Oh my god,"_ he whispered in horror of the sight before him. At the front by the altar, a huge fire raged, consuming all of the wooden furniture it had been built upon. Suspended over the fire with chains was another of the _preferiti_. The flames licked his feet. They could hear his cries of agony from there.

"_Get him down!"_ Olivetti yelled, ordering the Swiss Guardsmen that had come in the other two vehicles into action.

All of them ran forward toward the fire, still wary of the flames. Illyria looked up at the cardinal's chest for a second and saw branded there ambigramically 'fire'. "Robert, he's branded!" she called out.

Langdon began to give ideas like "That chain!" or "Get this pew up there! Make it a ladder!" to help the guardsmen save the cardinal.

Quite suddenly, two shots, silencer in use on the gun, rang out and killed two of the guardsmen. They all turned to look, wondering who their new assailant would be. All they saw was the fog from a broken fire extinguisher. In less than a second, the air over two feet from the floor was engulfed in its vague shape.

Langdon and several guardsmen kept manhandling the pew, turning it so it was vertically sticking into the air. With luck, someone could use it to climb up and get the cardinal down.

As they worked on that, Illyria ran to the fallen man beside the fire extinguisher. Olivetti saw this and hurried after her, feeling the oddest need to protect her. Before she could reach the man, he pulled her behind him before kneeling beside the man. He was dead.

Apparently, another guardsman had followed them to investigate. Illyria heard two muffled gunshots from behind her. Only a second later, a body fell on top of her, sending them both crashing to the floor.

In that time, Olivetti began to fight for his life against the attacker. In one swift move, the attacker brought his arm forward and shot Olivetti in the side. As he crumpled to the floor in pain, the attacker took Olivetti's Vatican Inspector General badge.

By then, Illyria had wriggled her way free of the corpse. Either the attacker was not interested in killing her, or she was simply too fast for him. Either way, she ran back to her cousin. He and the remaining guardsmen were still struggling under the weight of the pew.

A second later, she heard another shot. She whipped around to see another guardsman fall dead to the floor. A dark shape stood behind him, obscured by smoke. It was the shooter. Illyria's blood turned cold at the sight, even despite the heat of the flames. He seemed like a wraith in the shadows, insubstantial yet deadly.

The shooter went back toward the fire and shot two more guardsmen. By this time, Langdon had successfully severed one of the chains holding the cardinal above the flames. He swung down and hit a wall, still over the flames as the professor fell to the floor.

Illyria, however, was hurriedly climbing up part of the rather ornate wall toward the second chain. If she could just get close enough, she could pull him up to the balcony, to safety.

Shots began to ring out as the attacker began to shoot at Langdon to stop him from saving the cardinal. He had not seen Illyria yet. She moved like a wraith around the fire.

Finally, Langdon made a judgment call. He crawled through a little opening in the pile of furniture. Flames licked his clothes on all sides, but he made it through to the other side of the fire.

As Illyria began to pull the cardinal up onto the ledge, she heard a very human sound of pain and shock. The last of the guardsman had been shot. She did not look, though she was burningly curious. It would only waste some of the precious energy needed to pull this man to safety. She was getting close, almost close enough to grab his wrist.

Langdon slid under a table to hide from the shooter, hoping that Illyria was hidden. The man stepped forward, gun pointed.

The doors burst open and more men in uniforms poured in. The killer raised his stolen badge and falsely introduced himself. They did not believe him, so he shot them. Illyria winced at the sound, but kept pulling. Finally, she grabbed his wrist and pulled up.

One of the downed men pulled himself up enough to shoot the attacker in the shoulder. The shooter merely shot him right back, killing him.

The killer then turned and walked around the pile that was the fire, searching for Langdon. Illyria could hear him banging on metal, probably to find an escape route. He must have succeeded for no shots rang out.

The killer then turned to look at the cardinal, or where he should have been. When he saw that the cardinal was no longer over the fire, he readied his gun again to find the cardinal's saviour.

He looked up and saw the woman from the square pulling the cardinal onto a ledge. He shot at her. In that moment, Illyria thought she was going to die. She closed her eyes and readied herself for death. Pain came, but no death. Terrible pain shot through her arm starting at her shoulder, forcing her to drop the cardinal directly into the flames. He died less than a minute later.

The killer hurried toward her, wary that more guardsmen could arrive at any moment. In one mighty leap, he grabbed her leg and pulled her down to the floor. She fell in an unconscious heap. The man smirked. "They'll never find the last marker now," he said quietly, smiling in sadistic glee.

The killer looked down at Illyria's lifeless form, blood seeping from her bloody shoulder. He couldn't kill her. She was a woman, she was defenceless, and she had done him no harm. More than that, she was pure and beautiful. Who could harm an angel? No. He could not harm her.

Bending, the man picked her up and hurried back to his van. She could not come to the final marker. He would have to leave her at the Church of Illumination. As an afterthought, he pulled one of the two towels he kept in the back of his van out from their hiding place and used it to staunch the bleeding of her wound. That would have to be her bandage for now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

The fire squad that was finally putting out the fire at Santa Maria della Vitoria heard a sound of metal pounding on metal from somewhere within the sanctuary of the church. They looked around and found a manhole of sorts. Several of them worked together to lift it up, revealing a hole and a very wet American professor.

One of them, who spoke English, asked him, "_Signore_, are you okay?"

He just looked around and asked urgently, "Where's Illyria? Have you found a woman? Where is she?"

The same man said apologetically, "We found no one. I am sorry."

_He took her..._

Frustrated, the professor walked over to look at the statue of St. Teresa on fire, the third marker. It pointed west, across Rome. He pulled out the map again and began to work out the next location.

Just as he found the last marker, _Four Rivers_, one of the policemen said, "Professor Langdon, Commander Olivetti has ordered me to escort you back to the Vatican."

Langdon took off running for the car. The policeman followed and insisted, "The Vatican insists that I take you back immediately."

"That Vatican is about to lose its fourth cardinal tonight!"he exclaimed in return. "Now look, you can do as they say and force me back to the Vatican, where we can all mourn his death together, or you can show how real cops act and take me to _Piazza Navona_, where we still might be able to stop it!"

The two policemen looked at each other in silence for a few seconds before whispering amongst themselves.

"Oh, by all means let's talk it over!" Langdon exclaimed in contempt. "In fourteen minutes, he's gonna be dead!"

A second later, the policeman said, "This way, Professor."

As they hurried to the _piazza_, Langdon whispered, "I wish Illyria was here!"

ooooooooooooo

The Camerlengo stood in the papal office, staring into the flames leaping around in the grate. Only two topics plagued his thoughts: his plans and Professor Illyria di Angeli. Surely her return to him and last name were a sign from God himself. _Let angels guide thee on thy lofty quest._ She certainly was an angel. And he loved her all the more for it.

oooooooooooooo

Langdon stepped quickly out of the car. He spared a glance at the Castel Sant'Angelo before turning to see who was approaching him. "Vitoria! You're alright?"

"I'm alright, yes. Where is Illyria? What about you? I heard about Olivetti on the radio," Vitoria said quickly.

"I'm alright, but he has Illyria," Langdon said solemnly.

Seconds later, the men with the guns began to rush to the church, hurrying to find the capsule in time.

"Robert, we can't trust Richter. He took Silvano's journals. There's something in there he doesn't want us to see," Vitoria said as they waited for the guards to get the door open.

"The head of the Swiss Guard. Castel Sant'Angelo is close enough, so the wireless signal from the camera can still reach the Vatican," Langdon said, looking over at the Swiss guardsmen. He then looked up at the structure itself and said, "The Church of Illumination is somewhere here. Your canister is inside it."

The guardsmen smashed through the door and rushed inside, guns at the ready as though they were a SWAT team from America. The two civilians followed them inside to search. "Come with me," one of the guardsmen instructed, hurrying off in a new direction.

"400 years, the Illuminati met right under the Church's nose. The Vatican used this as a hideout and as a prison for their enemies. If the explosion happens here, will the blast radius take out the Vatican?" Langdon said as they hurried after him.

"And part of Rome along with it," Vitoria said regretfully.

As they hurried on, Langdon spotted a statue of an angel. The sword it was holding pointed straight down. Below that statue was another with a spear pointing to another statue. "They're pointing to it! The angels! The canister must be down there! Come on!"

They and the men with the guns followed the directions of the pointing angels, racing toward the Church of Illumination. When they rounded a corner, they spotted a van. Immediately, the guardsmen began to point their guns at it and inspect it, looking for people. They opened the door to the back and found several bodies of police officers strewn about the floor.

Quickly, the guardsmen began running back the way they had come. "Where are they going?" Langdon demanded.

"Back to search the outer part of the castle," Vitoria said.

"No! No! It has to be here!" Langdon yelled, redoubling his efforts.

"Robert, it's a dead end!" Vitoria insisted.

"No, it's not," Langdon said more calmly. "See if you can find a flashlight."

Vitoria went back to the van and saw a flashlight on the belt of one of the dead officers. She took it and brought it to Langdon.

"All of these stones are rectangular granite," Langdon began, "Except right here. What is this?" He kicked the dead leaves away from that part of the floor, revealing a design. "It's a pentagram!"

"An eye, that leads to..." Vitoria said.

"Nowhere," Langdon finished, pointing his flashlight in that direction.

He looked and suddenly slid out of Vitoria's sight. "Robert?" she called.

"Where these walls overlap, there's a passageway here," he said, poking his head back out. "Here. Hand me the flashlight."

They hurried down the brick passageway. At the end, they saw cells. "It's a passageway that leads to the Vatican," Langdon said upon seeing an inscription in an overhang. "The ancient escape route."

He kept looking before whispering, "My god...Here!" He had found another, smaller, pentagram on the floor. A small, gold angel statue was hung on an overhang above it.

They rushed on through the passage, knowing they were going the right way. They hurried up a flight of stairs. Langdon shone the flashlight into the room beyond and said, "This is it. This is the church."

"The canister should be lit by artificial light," Vitoria said, beginning to search the room for it. Langdon joined her in moving sheets of fabric, opening cabinets, and looking under tables, but they did not find the canister.

Langdon began to search the other side of the room. There was a bench facing the opposite wall. He checked that next. There, laying flat on the bench was Illyria. Her normally ghostly pallor was accentuated by the darkness. Her hair was laid out so that it fell off the bench, reaching toward the floor. Her eyes were closed, either in death or unconsciousness. Her dress was gathered around her legs, and her black trench coat was wrapped around her torso and one of her arms like a blanket, shielding her from the cold. Her other shoulder appeared to have a large piece of gauze held on by a strip of fabric that appeared to be from a shirt. Blood had seeped through it already.

He said quickly, "Vitoria! Illyria's here!" He knelt by her side, shaking her uninjured shoulder gently and calling, "Illyria! Wake up, Illyria!"

Her eyes fluttered open. "Robert?" she whispered through a haze of pain.

"Thank Goodness," he said, pulling her up into a hug without thinking. Her cry of pain prompted him to quickly let her go.

"Search for the canister," she said weakly.

Robert nodded, prompting them both to begin searching for it again. Instead, they found a box with four brands in it, though there was a place for another brand.

"There's a fifth brand. It's not an ambigram, it's just two crossed keys," Langdon said, running his hand over the drawing of it.

"The symbol for the Vatican," Vitoria said, hurrying over to look at it.

"No. No, the papacy," Illyria corrected. The other two glanced over to where she stood holding herself steady with the bench on which she had been laying.

After a second, Robert continued, "They intend to kill him before they destroy the Vatican. They're going to kill and brand the pope himself."

"There is no pope," Vitoria stated.

"_Tempe sede vicante_," Illyria reminded the other woman.

"The Camerlengo," she whispered in horror. "We have to warn-"

"Take a step back, please," a voice from behind them said seriously. They turned to see the killer with a gun pointed at them. "Take your cell phone from your pocket. Throw it in the fire," he instructed.

He walked closer to them and hit the cell phone, smashing it.

"Murderer," Vitoria said viciously.

"You know when they call me, and they all call me, it is so important to them that I know that what they ask is the Lord's will, or Allah's, or Yahweh's. And I suppose they're right because if He were not vengeful, I would not exist and I would die. I've had several chances to eliminate you tonight. You are still alive because you have no weapon and he didn't ask me to kill you, especially not women, but if you pursue me, it is another matter..." the killer said, intentionally going on a tangential monologue. And the killer began to leave.

"Why did you take her?" Langdon demanded before he could leave, pointing forcefully at his clearly pained cousin.

"God's angels deserve no less," he said simply, reaching a hand out to touch her cheek. She stepped away from him, leaning into the wall as her vision continued to clear. Surprisingly, the man just turned and left.

Langdon bolted for the entrance.

Quickly, he packed up all of his equipment and slung it over his back. He hurried to the roof, where he repelled down the wall of the _castel _and put his equipment in the car.

He put the keys in the ignition and turned them.

And the car blew up in a burst of flame.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Langdon and Vitoria ran down the passageway to the Vatican, desperately hoping to get there in time. They could see an end to the passageway: a door. Vitoria reached it first because Langdon hustled his cousin on by supporting her with an arm around her waist. Vitoria banged on the door a few times before Robert said, "It's a _sensa quiabe_. It's a one-way portal. The only entrance is on the other side."

They all began to bang on the door, hoping someone would hear them. After awhile, they saw the door open to the same guardsman that had been in the Archives. As soon as he saw the guardsman, Langdon said, "The Camerlengo is in danger."

All but Illyria took off running for the papal office. As they did, one of the guardsmen took out his gun. They could hear cries of anguish from inside. They forced the doors open to see Richter standing over the Camerlengo. The priest lay on the floor in obvious pain. He raised his hand to point at Richter and said condemningly, "He's the one! He's got a gun!"

The guardsmen shot him multiple times, killing him. As he dropped to the floor, the Bishop came in. He grabbed the brand and raised it to strike, crying, "You bastard! Sanctimonious bastard!"

The Camerlengo yelled, "Illuminatus!"

The guardsmen shot the bishop, preventing him from harming the Camerlengo.

The guardsmen rushed forward to help the Camerlengo up into a chair.

"Order the evacuation. We only have 19 minutes, and get the helicopter for the older Cardinals," he said through his pain.

Langdon looked over and found a key on the floor. Vitoria got his attention by saying, "Robert. The brand, could the symbol have another meaning?"

"The symbol is upside down," Robert said.

"St. Peter," the Camerlengo said, letting his head fall back.

"The first pope was crucified upside down," Langdon said slowly.

"On Vatican Hill," the Camerlengo put in. It was obvious from his voice that Illyria's ministrations were taking effect.

"A few hundred feet below us," Langdon said.

"Necropolis, city of the dead," Vitoria said.

"_Upon this rock, I will build my church,"_ the Camerlengo quoted.

"_Or bring it down upon itself,"_ Langdon finished.

"The bomb is in St. Peter's tomb," the priest said, looking over at Langdon.

They all ran for the door.

ooooooooooooooo

Minutes later, they were inside the Necropolis. The Camerlengo had come as well, running despite the pain. He was secretly quite grateful for this. He did not want them to know how weak he really was from this ordeal.

They went through the combination lock protected door to St. Peter's tomb. "It must be here," the Camerlengo said, looking around.

They, again, started to look. They found it immediately.

The Camerlengo reached out to take it. "Don't touch it!" Vitoria said quickly. He turned to look at her.

"We have seven minutes," Langdon said.

"Robert, hold this," Vitoria said, offering her coat. She carefully picked up the canister by the ends and lifted it out of the hollow it had been resting in.

She brought it up and carefully set it on her coat. She began the process of switching the batteries.

The battery ticked down one more notch. A second later, Vitoria asked, "It's cold down here, isn't it?"

"What's wrong?" Langdon asked carefully.

"Cold decreases battery life," Vitoria said, "We may have less than five minutes."

"So?" the Camerlengo asked.

"If I pull the battery with less than five minutes remaining, the residual charge won't hold suspension. We should leave it here, and get clear, if we can," she said.

"No!" the Camerlengo exclaimed, grabbing the canister and running.

"Father!" Langdon exclaimed. He stayed just long enough to help Vitoria up.

"This way!" Langdon said. He and Vitoria ran toward St. Peter's Square, following the Camerlengo. They reached it in time to see the Camerlengo take off flying a helicopter.

"Oh, my God," Langdon said in shock, unable to believe his own eyes.

"What is it, Robert?" Illyria asked.

The professor whirled around, nearly hitting his cousin in the process. A guardsman, the same young German man that had brought them to the archives, held her arm to support her. Before he could answer, she had spotted the helicopter.

Even as she watched, Patrick made eye contact with her, not as a priest but a man in love. His eyes held sadness.

oooooooooooooooo

The helicopter climbed further and further into the sky. As it did, McKenna crossed himself before looking at the elevation dial. The canister began to beep. It would explode soon.

He pressed a button. The helicopter would keep ascending on its own now.

He lunged for the parachute and buckled himself in quickly. A second before he jumped, he said, "I love you, Illyria."

oooooooooooooooooo

Illyria watched in sadness, agony, and dread as the helicopter rose higher and higher into the sky.

Suddenly, a dark shape dropped from the helicopter. A second later, a parachute unfolded from the figure. It was Patrick!

Just then, the device exploded in a huge burst of destructive power, sending its shockwave forth. The water from the large pools splashed up and sprayed the crowd. Barricades were sent flying, hitting people and easily knocking them over. People too were sent flying as dome roofs crumbled and windows shattered. There were clouds of debris all over.

Illyria, Langdon, and Vitoria were all knocked to the ground, but they raised their heads to see the Camerlengo hit the roof of a building before gliding seemingly gently down to land in the crowd.

The three hurried through the crowd to reach him, none more so hurried than Illyria.

ooooooooooooooooo

Patrick McKenna woke to faces all around him. All of them were pale with red eyes gleaming at him, framed by white hair. Illyria's beautiful features faded into the faces of strangers, all congratulating him on his heroic feat and survival. A vague sense of disappointment flooded him. They simply weren't her.

This crowd began to clap and cheer as they pressed closer around the Camerlengo, their saviour. The group of three knew they could not easily get to him now.

Some Swiss guardsmen pushed their way through and carried him through the crowd into the Vatican. The group of three hurried back to follow.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

The Vatican hospital was currently overloaded with patients. Two patients sat in chairs facing each other. In one, Illyria sat, waiting for the nurse to finish bandaging her shoulder. She had already pried the bullet out, a process only endured via Patrick's hand holding hers securely and comfortingly.

Amidst the silence, Illyria turned to her long-time friend and asked, "Do you remember what I said to you before I left?"

"You said 'The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting.'"

"And?"

"Charles Dickens, your favourite," he said, tapping her nose in a way that any on-lookers would have said was like an older sibling.

"Of course. And your response?"

"Happiness depends upon ourselves," he said with a smile, squeezing her hand gently.

"Cicero?"

"Aristotle."

"I never could keep the two separate," Illyria responded.

"Any response?"

"The scars you can't see are the hardest to heal," she said. (quote from Astrid Alauda)

Just as she finished, several Swiss guardsmen, in full uniform, came, saluted him, and said officially, "_Signor Camerlengo_."

"Yes?" he asked.

"The Cardinals ask you to join them in Conclave as soon as possible," he said.

"Me?" McKenna asked, astonished.

"Yes, _padre_," the guard answered.

He looked confused for a second. However, he looked up and nodded his head to the guard. He slowly stood and glanced at Illyria, who gave him an encouraging smile.

A few minutes later, the nurse was finished with bandaging Illyria's arm. She quickly left the hospital and hurried out to find Robert and Vitoria going to Richter's office.

oooooooooooooooooo

Once they were in the office, Illyria just leaned against Robert's arm for support. She had taken more injuries than the other two had combined.

"What are you doing?" Robert asked as Vitoria pushed aside some of the papers on Richter's desk.

"Silvano's journals are in the desk," she said, finding the button that opened the desk.

Robert stood and guided Illyria into the seat before walking over to the desk. He said speculatively, "Richter said his Holiness suffered from seizures. Steps were taken for safety. Made sure he was watched, he said. Wonder if he was trying to give me his key," Robert said, pulling out the key.

The screens lit up, showing the security cameras' view of the papal office.

"That's the papal office," Vitoria observed.

"If the Pope was worried about seizures, he would have had Richter install cameras without telling anyone," Illyria put in. Her voice was strained.

"To keep an eye on him for safety. Maybe it records," Robert said, rewinding the video.

_Richter entered the papal office and approached the Camerlengo, who stood beside the fire. "I read the journals, Patrick," Richter said._

_ "A scientist kept journals. So?" McKenna returned._

_ "You figure prominently in them," Richter clarified._

_ "Really?"_

_ "Divoli wasn't just a physicist. He was also a catholic priest. As such, he was deeply conflicted about the implications of his work. He was in need of spiritual guidance, like Galileo. About a month ago, he requested an audience with the pope, but you know that because you granted the audience, and you were also present during it," Richter said, approaching McKenna again._

_ "The God particle, to actually claim an act of creation! The blasphemy! The arrogance!" he exclaimed._

_ "The Holy Father didn't see it like that," Richter said. "He urged him to go public. His Holiness thought that the study could actually scientifically prove the existence of a divine power and begin to bridge the gap between science and religion."_

_ "His work was not religious! It was sacrilegious!" Patrick exclaimed._

_ "But you, you say the pope's position as a softening of church law, as an old man's weakness, your father's weakness. You murdered the Vicar of Christ," Richter said seriously._

_ "He raised me to protect this church, even from within," Patrick justified._

_ "And then, then you conjured up an old enemy from the past: the Illuminati. You found the ancient brands in the papal vaults and put them to use," Richter said, turning away from Patrick. "To spread fear!"_

_ "The Cardinals are men of belief. Right now, their belief in evil is uniting them. The entire catholic world will be united by this attack!" Patrick insisted._

_ "There is no attack!" Richter exclaimed angrily. "You're trying to convince the Cardinals that we're in a war, so that they should choose a warrior to lead them!"_

_ "We are at war! We are weak when we should be strong! If science is allowed to claim the power of creation, what is left for God?"_

_ "It didn't work, Patrick."_

_ "It isn't finished," Patrick said, backing up toward the fire. He knelt in front of it and adjusted what appeared to be an iron poker._

_ "Oh, yes. It's finished," Richter returned. "I've shown the journals to father Simian. The moment the doors of Conclave open, he will tell the Cardinals what you've done."_

_ Patrick pulled out the iron rod, revealing that it was in fact the brand of the crossed keys. "I was planning on doing this alone," he said._

_ "Put it down," Richter said as Patrick pointed it at him._

_ "But perhaps it's better that you're here," Patrick said, turning the brand toward himself._

_ "Put it down," Richter said, drawing his gun._

_ Patrick burned himself in the chest with the brand. He fell to his knees in pain before allowing the brand to drop to the floor._

_ The guardsmen burst through the door, and the rest of the events played out exactly as they remembered it._

"We have to show this to the Cardinals," Robert said.

Illyria just turned and ran, tears streaming from her eyes. _Not him. Not my Patrick!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

As Camerlengo Father Patrick McKenna walked through the deserted, quiet, dark halls of the Vatican toward Conclave, he heard soft crying. He paid it no heed and walked down the hall to the Swiss guards that guarded the door to Conclave. "I've been summoned by the College of Cardinals," he said.

They opened the doors, allowing him inside.

All of the cardinals stood in a group, staring at him solemnly. In that second, he knew. His plan had failed. They knew it was him.

Cardinal Strauss and one of the Swiss guardsmen walked toward him, their faces blank. Patrick backed up and walked out.

Patrick descended the stairs, hearing the guards following him. He went toward the entrance, but the doors opened showing more guards. Still more guards blocked every other exit.

Finally, he grabbed two lamps, blowing one out, and hurried down into the nook behind the high altar. Illyria sat leaning against a pedestal, crying her heart out.

Patrick set down the lamps and touched her shoulder. She jumped and glared at him. "It was you!" she said condemningly, sobbing.

"Illyria, listen. I did it to save the church. I love you. You are the most beautiful girl that has ever lived, and it is worth dying to have kissed you. Forgive me for what I'm about to do," he said, emotion filling his voice. He bent down further and gently kissed her one last time. She did not, could not, resist him. After all these years, her heart was his. (quote from Dylan Thomas)

He stood and poured the oil from the unlit lamp onto himself. He then threw the other lamp onto the ground, starting the fire that would burn him alive.

She screamed even before he did, though in horror rather than absolute, unendurable pain. The guard that got there first ran down the steps and pulled Illyria back, away from the flames. She struggled in a vain attempt to reach him.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Awhile later, the same guardsman led her back to the Vatican hospital. There she could rest and be watched through her case of shock.

As soon as he entered, holding her up with his arm, the guard was practically assaulted by Robert hurrying over and taking Illyria from him, asking frantically, "Is she alright?"

"She is in shock, Mr. Langdon," the German guard answered.

"Illyria, what's wrong? What happened?" he asked his cousin frantically.

Her pale lips moved slowly, slowly forming words before saying very quietly, "P-t-pat-patrick...he's dead...he-he killed himself..."

"What?" Robert exclaimed. "What happened?" he demanded from the guard.

"The Camerlengo burned himself alive," he answered solemnly, obviously trying very hard to conceal his emotions.

"Illyria, it's okay. Come over here and sit. Everything is fine," Robert said soothingly. He had seen her like this once before. He knew what to do.

He guided her over to a chair and sat her down in his lap, holding her tightly to him. "It's okay, Cous."

It took some time, but she did return to a relatively rational state of mind. Only then did he ask the question burning in his mind. "How close were you two when you were in Rome?"

Illyria sighed sadly, but she did not lower her gaze as she once would have. "We were very close," she admitted. "I loved him...Of course, I didn't tell him that. I thought we were like siblings, like you and me...I was very wrong. He felt the same as I...When I- When it happened, he felt responsible. When he was offered a priesthood, he wasn't going to accept. He wanted to stay with me. He wanted to protect me..."

"And I got you the professorship then?" Robert asked, recognizing that event for a turning point in her life.

Illyria nodded. "If it hadn't been for that, he would have stayed with me. He couldn't follow me to America, though..."

"You told him to become a priest," Robert said.

"Yes, and I regret it now more than ever," she admitted.

Robert frowned. "Because you have been apart so long?"

"No...He said he still loves me...I-i-i couldn't say it back, not when he is a priest...was a priest..." Illyria said.

Neither of them had noticed the bustle of nurses, doctors, and patients through the hospital around them until a gurney was rolled through, holding a very familiar figure. Quickly, Robert stood from his chair, pulling Illyria up with him. "Olivetti?" he asked, recognizing the barely conscious man.

Illyria gasped at the sight of the man's blood.

The Italian noticed. His glassy eyes looked up at her. The pain was obvious on his face and in his voice as he whispered in Italian, "_Non preoccuparti per me, piccolo angelo."_ (Don't worry about me, Little Angel)

"Come io non posso?" (How can I not?) she returned gently, smiling as two nurses rolled him away.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Robert, Vitoria, and Illyria all waited in an antechamber. The new pope had asked to see them before they all left. They waited in silence.

A guard came in and said, "Professor Langdon, please." He let them into the room where the new pope was preparing.

Cardinal Strauss walked up to them and handed Langdon what appeared to be an ornate box. "A token of thanks from His Holiness and from his new Camerlengo. We are grateful you saved his life, and it is our understanding that you need this text to complete your scholarly work." Robert opened the box and saw the Galileian text that he had been pinning over for so long. "We ask only that in your Last Will and Testament you ensure it finds its way home."

"Of course," Robert said, still in awe of the gift.

"And when you write of us, and you will write of us, may I ask one thing? Do so gently,"  
the Cardinal said.

"I'll try," Robert said.

"Religion is flawed, but only because man is flawed, all man, including this one," the Cardinal went on to saw.

"He chose the name Luke," Vitoria said quietly.

"There's been many Mark's and John's, never a Luke," Robert commented.

"It's said he was a doctor," Strauss informed them.

"That's quite a message: science and faith all in one," Vitoria commented.

"The world is in need of both," Strauss explained.

"You'll council him wisely," Robert said.

"Oh no. I am an old man. I will council him bravely...Mr. Langdon, thanks be to God for sending someone to protect this church," Strauss said.

"I don't believe he sent me, Father," Robert began.

"Oh, my son. Of course he did, and your cousin," Strauss said before turning to look at the pope.

The new pope turned to look at them and nodded before walking out to the balcony to show himself to the world for the first time.

At the same time, a woman walked away from the Vatican with full intentions to never love again. She held that promise for over a year before a not so unfamiliar person returned to her life. She fell in love. She eventually married and became Mrs Prof. Illyria Olivetti, Ph.D, but that is a story for another time.


End file.
